


You Bet Your Heart

by Predec2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 02:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3340619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predec2/pseuds/Predec2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Valentine's Day disagreement leads Brian to the local bar, where he encounters someone he is instantly attracted to. Will he succumb to temptation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Bet Your Heart

 

 

 

 

* * *

Story Disclaimer:  QAF and its characters are the property of Showtime and Cowlip Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

* * *

 

 

Brian brushed some hair away from his eyes as he nursed his second glass of Beam, his elbows braced on the bar's counter. He sighed, wondering what exactly had happened earlier. It had been a minor thing, really.  Justin had wanted to stay home, while he had wanted to go out.  It had been a hell of a week at Kinnetik - tremendous pressure had been placed on him and his staff by several important clients demanding meetings, as well as preparation for a new campaign pitch regarding a potentially lucrative new account - which had resulted in everyone working 12-hour days for the past week. They had finally wrapped everything up today, and all Brian had wanted to do was go out and work off some nervous energy afterward.  Maybe go to Babylon and do some dancing, to Woody's for a little pool, or even just out to dinner.  He hadn't even thought about it being Valentine's Day. That is, not until he had arrived home and noticed that Justin had placed some candles on the table and had made dinner for them; he had never really celebrated that hokey, corny holiday before anyway.  He didn't have to wait for someone at Hallmark to put aside one day for what they thought constituted the time to show love and appreciation for a significant other, spouse, boyfriend...whatever the fuck. Didn't he show that to Justin every day?  So why did this one day matter?

 

Maybe he hadn't expressed it so much in words - he never _had_ been one to express in speech what he could more than adequately show in his actions - but he showed Justin all the time how he felt about him and his talent, and how much he appreciated him. And he _had_ said the oh-so-important, three words to his lover on occasion; so what was the big problem with the two of them going out to expend some energy and just relax?  He hadn't _asked_ Justin to fix him dinner - he didn't even know what time he was going to finish tonight.  It hadn't been _his_ fault that by the time he got home, the dinner Justin had made was overcooked, the bread was dry and cold, and the candles that he had placed on the dining room table had melted down into an unattractive, gloppy mess.  The whole scene had reminded him of that damn picnic on the floor that Justin had attempted to persuade him to participate in - and THAT in turn had reminded him of a very painful time in their relationship; the start of a bleak, lonely period when his lover had briefly found solace in the arms of another man.  So why couldn't he understand his need to get away from all that?

 

Even now, he really didn't know how the whole episode had escalated. Justin had been at work all day in his studio, busy devoting his time to his own projects, but Brian had figured it couldn't have been nearly as stressful as what HE had experienced during the week.   Unfortunately, when he had casually mentioned that, it had been met with a stony stare and darkened, angry, blue eyes.  One thing had led to another, and now here he was, sitting at the counter at Benson's down the street, cradling his now lukewarm drink in his hand.  He had been perched so long on the counter stool that his ass was starting to become sore.  He shook his head; this was NOT how he had envisioned this evening at all.  And the unrelenting beat of some country tune that he didn't recognize, coming from an old-fashioned, Rockola jukebox over in the corner, wasn't helping his mood much, either.  For a Tuesday night, the place was packed, too.  He glanced around, noting the abundance of cowboy hats and leather boots amongst the patrons either belting back a beer or grouped around the dart boards and pool tables, and wondered what the fuck he was doing here.

 

He felt more than noticed a presence nearby then, as he glanced up to see a tall, dark-haired man standing close by, openly admiring him. He recognized the other man's interest in him instantly. Even though he presently felt like shit after what had happened earlier, it still helped to know that he could attract other men like the proverbial fly; in fact, this would be the fifth (or was it the sixth?) one tonight who had taken an interest in him, either covertly or openly.  Thinking he was being encouraged when Brian didn't reject him outright, the other man smirked at him as he slid into the barstool next to him, placing his squat liquor glass down on the bar.  "Buy you another one?" he drawled; his voice was a deep baritone, and smooth as glass. Brian had to admit; the guy was pretty good-looking.  He had a lightly muscled build that he could easily discern under the long-sleeved cotton shirt he was wearing, and his shoulders were nice and broad.  His eyes, too, were an intriguing shade of dark green.   Any other time before he would have definitely been interested. He always _had_ been attracted to brunets.  At least, until a certain blond had come along.

 

He finally shook his head.  "No, thanks," he told him simply.

 

The other man nodded, a brief flash of disappointment skittering across his face as he replied, "Well, maybe next time, darlin'."  Picking up his glass, he scooted off the barstool and sauntered over to the other end of the bar to lean against it, right next to a thin man with dirty-blond hair and a mustache who was sporting a stud earring in his left ear.  Brian watched as the other man flirted with the blond and leaned in closer to him; he was met with a smile of invitation from the other man.  Well, he had to give the man credit, Brian thought; he certainly recovered from his disappointment quickly enough.

 

He tipped his head back then to drink the last of his Beam, feeling the familiar burn as it slid down his throat, before turning to go - until another man slid onto the barstool that had been previously occupied by the dark-haired man a few moments earlier.

 

Now _this_ man intrigued him. Brian watched, slightly open-mouthed, as the bartender walked over to take the man's drink order.  It was obvious the man had been here frequently, since the bartender immediately knew what he wanted without being told - a gin and tonic and an appetizer of chicken wings.  He couldn't help noticing how the man's hair gleamed brightly under the lights that hung down from the wooden-beamed ceiling above as the man's slender, graceful fingers idly played with a matchbook clutched in his right hand.

 

The man seemed to sense he was being watched, as he turned his head slowly to acknowledge Brian's presence. The man's eyes flicked up and down Brian's body lazily before they came to rest on his face again, making Brian's pulse race; his desire for him was open and blatant.  Perhaps this might be a way for him to expend that restless energy he had been feeling all day after all, Brian couldn't help thinking. He bestowed one of his sexiest smiles on the other man in return, nodding back at him in acknowledgement.

 

"Been here before?" the other man asked him.  It was a pretty lame opening line, but Brian didn't mind; he was too fascinated with this stranger to care.  The man's voice was captivating, as was the rest of him.  He was wearing a tight, royal-blue tee shirt that outlined a lean chest underneath the open, buttery brown leather jacket he wore, matched with a pair of equally tight jeans partially hiding a pair of dark brown calf boots.

 

Brian licked his lips to wet them, suddenly realizing how dry they were despite the two drinks he had had earlier.  He signaled the bartender that he wanted a refill before replying, deciding he might want to stay here a bit longer after all.  His gaze slowly traveled down the man's torso, even lower toward the denim-clad thighs and the prominent bulge in the man's crotch before he settled his eyes back on the man's face, noting the slight pinkish tinge that appeared on his skin in reaction.  "Apparently not enough," he finally replied, his voice thick with lust.

 

The younger man's right brow lifted in question as Brian explained, "Or I would have noticed _you_ before."

 

His companion smirked back at him with a sexy smile then.  "And I definitely would have noticed _you_."

 

Brian nodded, glancing down as something caught his eye on the counter; it was a brief flash, a glint of something metal that was reflected in the overhead lighting as the other man moved his hand slightly, but it was enough for him to find its source.  He noticed the platinum wedding band snugly wrapped around the other man's left ring finger.  As he lifted his eyes to catch his companion's gaze, it was obvious both knew what he was thinking.  "Your better half doesn't mind that you're here in this bar, trying to hook up with other men?" he asked pointedly.

 

The bartender arrived just then with the gin and tonic and chicken wings, along with Brian's refill of Beam, allowing the other man to take a large drink from his glass before responding with a shrug.  "Does it really matter to you?"

 

Brian was mesmerized by the sight of his companion's smooth skin as he tilted his head back briefly to take a swig from his glass - watching the plump, kissable lips wrap themselves around the rim as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.  He wondered how those lips would feel wrapped around something _else_ , and he was tempted to reach over, grab the other man by the neck, and crash their lips together right then and there for a taste, but he knew there would be time later for that.  And he planned to explore those lips - and the rest of the man's body - thoroughly before the night was over.  He shook his head.  "No," he assured him with a smirk of his own as he forgot about everything and everyone else.  "Not a bit.  And neither does your name, either," he added.

 

The other man nodded, satisfied, as he placed his glass back down on the bar and picked up one of the greasy chicken wings to dip it into some ranch dressing on the plate; Brian's eyes darkened with arousal as the man seemed to take an inordinate amount of time holding the chicken between his lips before he pulled the now clean bone back out, licking his lips sensuously in response and issuing a soft moan of appreciation as he put what was left of it back down on the plate and proceeded to lick his fingers clean...one by one in a slow, tortuous fashion.  Eyeing Brian with a sly sort of gaze when he was finished, he pushed the plate of chicken wings toward him.  "You a meat lover?" was the brazen question.

 

Brian rolled his lips under in amusement as he felt his face warm; he hadn't been this turned on in a long time, and the hard-on straining in his pants was clear evidence of that.  "Definitely," he told him, his eyes boring into his companion's.  "When it's the right kind of meat."  He shook his head in a silent ‘no thanks' as the other man pushed the plate over a little more, swiping another chicken wing and repeating the same procedure as before, only prolonging the moan this time around.  It sounded to Brian like some _other_ type of moan, and he was determined to hear that same sort of moan when the two of them engaged in some other type of activity later.

 

* * *

 

 

Finally finished with his plate of appetizers a few minutes later - and in record time, too, in Brian's opinion - the man looked over at him expectantly.  "How about a little game?" he asked coyly, licking his fingers off one more time before cleaning them with a wet nap the way that most normal men would do.

 

Brian grinned slyly.  "I thought we were already doing that," he pointed out.  "Isn't that why you're here?"  He reached over to lightly tap the other man's wedding ring.  "To play?"

 

His companion smiled.  "Definitely.  How are you at darts?"

 

Brian frowned. "Huh?"

 

"You know...darts. Those little, pointy projectiles that you throw at a round board..."

 

Brian huffed.  "I know what darts are, asshole," he told him irritably.  "I'm good at everything I do," he pronounced confidently.  Secretly, though, he wondered about that. He had never actually PLAYED darts before; he was much better at playing pool.  "But how about we play with some balls, instead?"

 

The sexy man smiled, somehow sensing this may be out of this gorgeous man's area of expertise, despite his bragging nature.  "No...I prefer to throw darts.  Why? Are you afraid I'll beat you?"

 

Brian snorted.  "Not likely.  What about _you_? Don't you like playing with balls?"

 

The younger man smiled broadly.  "Depends upon the balls," was the cheeky answer.  "You didn't answer my question."

 

Brian shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.  "Bring it on.  You won't stand a chance."

 

"Maybe not," was the admission.  "But just in case hell freezes over, if I DO win...I get to take you back to my place and fuck your brains out as long and as much as I want. And if YOU win, you get to do the same to me."

 

Brian initially balked at that idea. But he also realized he was in a precarious position. If he didn't agree, it would make him look like he was uncertain of himself.  And he NEVER let anyone see that part of him.  "Okay, then.  You're on," he told him.  "Because I have nothing to lose.  Shouldn't take very long, either," he told him with bravado as he slid off the barstool and downed the last of his Beam.  "Let's get it out of the way...so I can collect on my bet."

 

The younger man moved to join him, providing Brian with a clearer picture of his physique. And he continued to like what he saw...a LOT.  He winced as an overly loud country ballad began to play from the jukebox. Why did he have to wind up in this hokey honky tonk anyway? But if he hadn't, he reminded himself, he never would have run into this delicious treat he would soon be eating up - literally.

 

"Best out of five, then," the younger man decided as he weaved his way through the crowd, not waiting for Brian to follow.

 

"How generous," Brian replied dryly, his eyes intently focused on the view as he admired the other man's ass snugly encased in denim.  He was practically salivating now as they arrived at one of the few dart boards that wasn't being used. Pulling out the darts stuck to the board, the other man turned to face him with a smile.  "Age before beauty," he told him with a wink as he handed Brian one set.

 

"You just want to see what sort of competition you have," Brian told him smugly, although inside he was less than certain of the outcome. Would it be so bad to be fucked by this sexy man standing mere inches from him?  Perhaps not. But he didn't bottom for anyone; at least, almost anyone.  Pushing that thought aside - and the unpleasant encounter he had had with Justin earlier - he placed two of the three darts down on a small, round table nearby as he prepared for his first throw, taking careful aim and moving his hand back and forth to carefully line up his shot.  Squinting his eye slightly to try and better study the center of the board, he swung his arm back and let loose with his first try - watching as it promptly hit just barely inside the outermost circle.  He heard a distinctive snicker sound from behind him as he turned around to glare at his competitor.  "I'm just warming up," he maintained defensively.  He picked up the second and third dart, determining to better his aim, and he did - by two circles.  It was still way too far away from the bulls' eye for any sense of safety, however, especially with the cocky look on the other man's face. He stared the other man down as confidently as he could as he muttered, "Let's see how good YOUR aim is, hotshot."

 

The other man grinned as he took his supply of darts and walked up to stand next to Brian.  He forced himself to concentrate on his target - even though he found merely the presence of this God of a man extremely distracting - as he studied the bulls' eye of the board and cocked his hand back to deliver his first throw; one that landed firmly in the second ring of the board.  He turned his head to flash a cocky smile at Brian.  The second and third ones landed near the first as he smirked over at him to say, "Your turn...Stud."

 

Brian scowled at him, swallowing hard and muttering to himself as he walked over to the board and pulled out the darts, grimacing at how much closer his competitor's darts had landed.  Somehow he had the distinct feeling that he had been set up, but he vowed to do better in subsequent rounds.  There was NO way he was going to let this other man get the best of him.

 

His companion smiled sweetly at him as he handed him his darts before deciding to try a different tactic this time; standing stock still, he fixed his eyes on where he wanted his dart to go and bit his lower lip in concentration, silently praying that this time he would do better.  He always won, no matter WHAT he did, he reminded himself, so this time would be no different.  Cocking his hand back, he let the first dart of the second round go.

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, despite his inner vow and determination, he found out how wrong he was. It seemed his adversary was a whiz when it came to throwing darts - both literally and figuratively. Every one of his darts landed with deadly precision within the second ring or closer, with two almost square in the middle of the bulls' eye.  The more Brian watched, the more his mouth hung open in disbelief.  He tried his best to make up for his initial, wayward throw, but the best he could do after the five rounds were up was to land two of them in the third ring. It didn't help that the other man kept zinging another type of dart at him, issuing insulting barbs about his throwing prowess under his breath each time one of his darts landed far outside the bulls' eye.

 

By the time Brian was done, he was shaking his head in disgust.  He hated to turn around to see the look of triumph on the other man's face, but he had to admit it: the man had won fair and square. And if nothing else, Brian was an honorable man when it came to keeping his promises.  As he turned to gaze over at the happy but sexy man beside him, he decided he could have experienced an ever worse outcome - the man could have been a troll.  Or course, if he HAD been, he wouldn't have had anything to do with him in the first place. But at least it made what was about to happen a lot more palatable.

 

Just as he thought, as soon as he turned around, there it was: that ‘cat that ate the canary' look.  He rolled his eyes as the younger man walked up to him and slid his arms up his chest to link his hands behind his neck.  He smiled up at him smugly.  "Well, time to leave and collect my prize," he announced cheerily.  "But first I'd like to get a sneak preview."  He boldly pulled Brian's head down to smash their lips together, taking only a second before his tongue slid out and demanded entrance.  Brian uttered a soft moan in response; before he knew it, he was opening his mouth to accommodate the demand, his own arms sliding around his companion's back to pull him closer as the kiss deepened even more.  The passion flaring between them was close to a combustible level before they broke off the kiss of one accord and pulled back slightly, noticing a mirrored look of mutual desire.  Their breaths coming out in soft pants, the winner of their bet asked, "Your car or mine?" He was not going to take the chance that this particular man was going to get away; not before he collected on their bet.

 

Brian studied the other man briefly before he finally decided, "Mine."  He could at least have some control over the matter.

 

The younger man nodded, seemingly satisfied with that decision.  Could it be because he was wanting to play just a little more with his soon-to-be conquest?  "Fine," he told Brian.  "But we're going back to MY place."

 

Brian lifted an eyebrow.  "What about your little homo hubby?" he inquired as the other man slid his hands back around to rest on his chest.

 

He received a smile in response.  "He's not there," was the answer.  "No more stalling," he demanded.  He pulled on Brian's hand as he started to lead him toward the front entrance.  Brian resisted for just a moment in protest before he finally followed his companion, refusing to acknowledge what the man's mere touch was doing to him.  It was such a strong feeling that it almost overwhelmed him - he greedily gulped in some of the cool, night air as a sort of balm against his burgeoning desire when they emerged outside and headed toward the parking lot.

 

"Oh, and by the way," the man told him as Brian used his remote key fob to unlock the car and they both slid inside.  "We'll need to stop somewhere on the way and pick up some dinner. I'm starving."

 

Brian looked over at him disbelief.  "You just had a whole plate full of chicken wings," he pointed out.

 

"That was an appetizer," he was told.  "Now I want something more substantial.  Winner of the bet says so.  Stop at the Burgerama down the street," he ordered.

 

Brian harrumphed as he shook his head and started up the car.  "Yes, your majesty," he intoned dryly as the other man smiled back at him. 

 

* * *

 

_One hour later_

 

The two men lay panting and sweaty in their post-coital state, Brian firmly holding onto the slighter body lying on top of him. His hands slowly slid up and down the slick, pale flesh of his lover in a familiar, lazy motion; one that had been perfected years ago.

 

Finally, the younger man pulled out of him and flopped over onto his back, turning his head slightly to peer over at Brian.  "That...that was the best Valentine's Day present I think I've ever gotten," he decided, still a little breathless.  "We'll have to do that to commemorate _every_ holiday."

 

Brian smirked over at him.  "You got lucky tonight - in more ways than one," he teased him as his companion swatted him on the arm.  "Don't get used to it on a regular basis, Sunshine," he added.  His smile faltered somewhat as he thought back to their earlier confrontation.  "Justin...about earlier..."

 

Justin shook his head as he turned his head to face his husband.  "No, don't say it. It's okay. Both of us could have handled it better. I should have checked with you before I went to all that trouble. It wasn't your fault you had to work late. And...I realized afterward why you might have reacted the way you did. That's why I went to find you."  He twisted his body to drape his upper half over Brian's torso, his chin propped up on his lover's taut chest as he felt the regular beating of Brian's heart.  He would never grow tired of hearing that; the beat was so strong and invincible, much like the man whose body it occupied.  His right hand traced light patterns over Brian's pecs as he laid his right cheek against Brian's chest and snuggled a little deeper against his warm body, his left leg draped over Brian's right.

 

Brian wrapped his arms around the slender body as he placed his chin on top of Justin's head; just savoring the feeling of holding him.  "By the way, Sunshine, how did you know where to find me?"

 

He heard Justin snort, his warm breath ghosting across his skin.  "Duh...it's the only gay bar IN this Podunk town.  It wasn't that hard to find you."

 

Brian grinned in comprehension.  "Remind me next time not to be so predictable. That sounds so...boring.  I think I need a new hobby...and NOT dart throwing, either."

 

Justin smiled against his chest.  "Well, you can always take up bowling again."

 

Brian rolled his eyes and snorted. "No, thanks.  Armani doesn't make bowling uniforms or shoes. And I am never setting foot in the...what was it called again?"

 

Justin grinned as he continued to lightly caress Brian's chest.  "Bowlero."

 

"Yeah...Bowlero.  Who the fuck would name a bowling alley that?  Although it's probably the closest they'll ever come to culture out here."  He chuckled at the thought. It WAS fairly mundane out here in the West Virginia back country.  But it WAS close to the Pitts, and it did have its advantages. Out here, he knew that no one would bother them, and he cherished the private time he was able to enjoy with the man he loved. And Justin was delighted with the upstairs studio in the far corner of their home, a room that had floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls, and was normally awash with bright sunlight - the perfect, natural lighting for his painting.

 

"Brian?" he heard Justin call him softly after a few moments.

 

"Hmm?"  His thumb traced a light, idle pattern on Justin's shoulder.

 

"I do have one more Valentine's wish," Justin told him quietly.

 

Brian's brow wrinkled slightly in curiosity as he rolled his tongue into his cheek. "And what would that be, Sunshine?  You've already taken advantage of my generous nature over and over tonight."  He grinned as he heard his husband huff in response, sensing some further, romantic rambling coming.  He loosened his hold just enough to allow Justin to raise his head to peer up into his eyes.

 

Justin reached up to snag the expensive gold chain that was presently hung around Brian's neck - the one he wore constantly and never took off, even in the shower - pulling it toward him until he could find what he was seeking.  "I'd like you to wear this on your finger," he told him as he held up the matching platinum ring that was presently hanging there.  "No more hiding it under your shirts. I saw how many men were hitting on you at the bar tonight.  And I didn't like it."

 

"Justin..." Brian scoffed, secretly pleased that his beautiful husband could still become jealous when other men paid him attention, even though he knew by now where his heart - and his body - lay.  "You know that's not why I..."

 

Justin reached up with his hand to place his fingers lightly over Brian's mouth as he told him, "I know that," he reassured him softly.  "And I know getting married was a big step for you. But it's not like they don't know anyway. I wear MY ring on my finger," he pointed out.

 

"Yeah, our friends and family know," Brian agreed.  "But not anyone else."  He sighed as he gazed into the face of the man he loved so deeply.  "You know how I feel about you," he murmured a little awkwardly as he reached up to stroke Justin's cheek with the pads of his fingers.  "I guess...I just need to take some baby steps when it comes to this kind of thing, that's all." He curled his lips under shyly, the way he always does whenever he's feeling a little uncomfortable, a vulnerability that Justin had always found so endearing.

 

He smiled up at his husband and nodded.  "I know," he whispered.  "We don't want _everyon_ e to think that the great Brian Kinney has been tamed at last."  He cupped Brian's face in his hands as he let go of the necklace and watched briefly as it landed on Brian's chest, both the chain and the ring shining off the moonlight streaming in from the windows nearby.  He lifted his eyes to stare into the familiar hazel ones, resigned to accepting the situation for now as he added, "Just think about it, okay?"

  
There was silence for several seconds before Brian shook his head and replied firmly, "I don't need to think about it."

 

Justin pressed his lips together, trying fervently to control his disappointment as he sighed. "I...I understand."  Whether Brian wore the ring publicly or not, he knew it didn't change his love for him. He knew without a doubt that this proud, strong man loved him deeply. As deeply as he loved HIM.

 

"No, you don't," Brian told him quietly then as he lifted his head up, just enough to pull the chain from around his neck. Grasping it in his hands, his long, elegant fingers worked at the lobster claw clasp for a few moments before he undid the chain and slid the ring off until it landed in the palm of his hand. Justin watched, his heart pounding, as Brian carefully laid the necklace down on the mattress beside them.  He held the ring out toward his husband as he murmured, "I think I'm ready to walk now."

 

Justin's eyes grew wide; he felt the sting of tears threatening to fall as, with a trembling hand, he reached to take the ring from Brian, who held his left hand up and arched an eyebrow at him expectantly.  Using his other hand to steady Brian's, his own shaking with excitement, Justin slid the gleaming piece of jewelry down onto his ring finger until it fit snugly at the base.

 

"How does it look?" Brian murmured with a smile. The metal band now adorning his finger felt cold against his skin...but it also felt _right_. 

 

Justin swallowed the lump in his throat; he had dreamed of seeing Brian wearing his wedding ring - a symbol proclaiming loud and clear his love and devotion to him - but to actually see it for real on his finger made him temporarily speechless.  "It's...it's beautiful," he finally managed to whisper hoarsely.  " _You're_ beautiful."

 

Brian grinned.  "I know," he said in typical, smug Kinney fashion as Justin laughed. The two of them came together for a heartfelt kiss before Justin snuggled back into his embrace, Brian's hand cradling him against his chest once more.

 

"Brian?" Justin called out softly; he couldn't quit staring at the metal band reflecting in the moonlight as their entwined hands lay on Brian's stomach now.

 

Brian bit back a sigh - Justin could be terribly chatty after sex, but he really didn't mind; it was actually one of the things he loved about him.  "Yes?" he replied.

 

"I wouldn't trade our lives for anything...or anyone." 

 

Brian nodded then as he leaned down slightly to kiss his lover.  "Me, neither, Sunshine," He whispered back. "Me, neither."

 

 


End file.
